Sick
by Dark wolf's last day
Summary: France and England are sick. So, they call in America and Canada to take care of them for a while. However, America is very annoying. And, America, being America, drags Canada into annoyingness along with him.


I have been SO busy lately. I'm sorry guys. I also recently had my birthday and I have some new things to enjoy, so that's an added factor.

I really like this story and I didn't half ass it (I don't think anyway), so enjoy!

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><p>"Froooggg…" England groaned, "I'm siiiiccckkkk. Get me some tissues…"<p>

"Hey, you ass, I'm sick too." England turned his head. A throbbing pain surged through his head, but he managed to see that the Frenchmen beside him did, indeed, look sick. England laid his head back down on his pillow and snuggled closer to France.

"Well, if you won't get me anything, I can at least use you as a heat source." England said, shivering a bit from his illness. "We should also probably call America and umm…Canada, but it's cold and I don't want to grab my cell phone…"

"From the nightstand, Angleterre? You won't freeze. We need-" A coughing fit. "Canada and America's help." France sniffled and pulled England even closer to him, shivering.

"Goddamn it, you get it."

"Angleterre, it's on your side on the bed. I think you're sicker than you think you are." France buried his face in the crook of England's neck. "Pleaaassseeee?" England frowned.

"No."

France pouted, but soon thought of something. He pulled a leg over England and said, "Mais, Angleterre, pourquoi? Tu sais je t'aime. Et que je te trouve génial au lit. Même quand tu-" France started to feel that need to cough coming back, but fought it off. He needed to finish his statement. "es malade, tu es sexy." England felt himself starting to blush.

"France, bloody hell," A snorting kind of sniffle, "we're _both _sick and-" France grinded his hips against England's and kissed him on the cheek.

In the most seductive voice that France could manage while being sick, he said, "Et la taille de ton s-"

"Okay, damn it! I'll get the cell phone and call the boys as long as you stop!" France took his leg away from England and kept his mouth shut. England grabbed his cell phone (Muttering the whole time as he got it) and dialed America's number.

"HEYYYYYYYY EENNNGGGLLLAAANNNDDD DUUUUDDDDDEEEE!"

"Bloody hell, America! Don't yell in my ear!"

"Hah, sorry. So, what's up? Is France there?"

"Yeah. We're both sick. I was wondering if you and…" France mouthed 'Canada' at England. "Canada could…could…" England felt his pride slowly starting to slip out of his fingers. "could talk to France for a moment." France raised an eyebrow, but took the phone.

"America, what Angleterre is too stubborn to say is," England shot France a glare. "that we would like you and Mattie to come down and look after us because neither of us really feels like getting up right now."

"Oh…eh…I kind of…don't want to do that…"

"Can you at least ask your brother if he will?"

_Oh, damn. I know that Mattie will and if he does and I don't I'll feel like a bad person. Damn you, Mattie, and you're stupid niceness. _"Okay, fine, I'll do it. I'll ask Mattie if he will too. I'm sure he will though." _Because he's a goody two shoes._ "Bye!" America hung up. France pressed the 'end call' button on the cell phone and placed it beside him. He really didn't feel like bugging England to put it on the nightstand.

"So, now we wait." France said.

"Why'd you have to say that about me?" England frowned and sniffled. "I hope they get here soon. My cold is getting bloody worse." England wiped at the small amount of mucus that he couldn't sniff back into his nose and sighed.

"Cher, use a tissue."

"Well, I would, if you had gotten me one when I asked!"

"I'm sick too, y'know!"

"I don't care. Fuck you." France said nothing after England said this. England was enough of a grouch when he was well, never mind when he was sick. At least seeing his two sons always made him somewhat happier. Well, almost always. America could be quite annoying when he wanted to be.

"H-Hello, Alfred. It's m-me, C-Canada." Canada said as he answered the phone, always worrying about what his brother wanted.

"First, I want to say that I hate you. A lot. You're too nice! So, now, we're both stuck taking care of France and England, 'cause they're sick. And, yes, you have to. Because if not I'm stuck doing it by myself, and if that happens I'm going to beat your ass."

"A-America, what-"

"France and England called me and said that they were both sick. I accepted because I knew that you would go along with it if they asked you, and then I'd look bad. So thanks. Now we're stuck taking care of old people."

"Alfred, I don't know if you know, but in human years, our parents really aren't that old. I'd be happy to help though."

"…Asshole."

"Thanks a lot, America."

"Whatever. Just come over as soon as you can." America hung up and Canada sighed. _Does he ever think about anyone else's feelings? He's lucky he's my brother…who am I kidding? I'd help him even if he weren't my brother. _Canada sighed again before he went to his older brother's house.

Canada always hated ringing the doorbell on his brother's house. He really did love his brother. His brother meant well, and Canada knew that. Canada just wished that he wasn't so obnoxious and that he wasn't always in his brother's shadow. Sometimes Canada wondered why he helped his brother so much, but he tried not to think about it too much. With a deep breath, Canada rang the doorbell.

The door slammed open and hit Canada in the head, knocking his glasses off of his head. "Alfred! B-Be careful!" Canada rubbed his head and bent down to pick up hid glasses. America didn't seem to pay attention to his pain.

"Mattie! It's about time you showed up! Come on!" America gripped Canada's arm tightly and dragged him out to his car. America insisted on driving his own car, of course. Canada sat in the front passenger seat and hoped that his brother wouldn't bother him too much. Luckily, America didn't. He mostly just muttered about how 'he had better things to do' and 'ugh, I hate my parents'.

"America, promise you'll be nice." Canada said as he and America stepped out of the car. America laughed and rolled his eyes.

"Matt, France and England are wasting our time. I'll be damned if I'm nice to them." Canada said nothing. He didn't want to fight with anyone. Especially not America. Canada offered to ring the doorbell or knock, but America just busted his way through. Canada followed behind him. "Yo, England, France, where are ya, dudes?"

"Goddamn it you git! Don't yell! We're in the bedroom!" England yelled. France said an annoyed 'Angleterre, don't yell!" but neither America nor Canada heard this. America and Canada made their way up the stairs, America grumbling the whole time.

"Bonjour, mon petit Canada!"

"B-Bonjour, Papa. Want anything?"

"Yeah, get him some cough syrup. He's been coughing like crazy." Almost right on cue, France started hacking. Normally, France would have apposed drinking cough medicine in any way that he could, but his coughing fit would prevent him from doing that.

"Okay. And you, Daddy? I'm sure Alfred would get it for you." America shot Canada a glare. _You stupid ass fucking goody two shoes! Ugh!_

"Tissues. Now."

"How about you ask nicely?" America demanded.

"Take no mind to him, America. Angleterre is just bitter because he's sick." France said, trying to keep the peace so he didn't get a major headache from England and America bickering. America snorted, but Canada lightly tugged on his arm, signaling him to come out of the room. Surprisingly, America did so. "Lapin, you really shouldn't be so grouchy. I don't care if you're sick." England just grunted angrily.

Meanwhile, Canada was in the kitchen with America and was getting some cough syrup. "A-America, you really should be getting some tissues for Daddy."

"Like hell I'd know where they are. Why do you still insist on calling them 'Papa' and 'Daddy'? That's not what they are! I don't even know why I'm here!" Something seemed to snap inside of Canada.

"Shut up, America."

"What? Mattie, I-"

"I said, shut up. Listen, you may still be bitter over some things that happened in the past, but I'll have none of that. You, you can cut off your nose to spite your face if you want, but I'm not. Now, I suggest that you either get some tissues for Daddy or get out. Because I would be happy to get Daddy some tissues if you want." America stared at his younger brother. He was about to think that his brother never ever spoke to him like that, but then he remembered a few times in which he had.

"I…don't talk to me like that…" America said weakly as he went off into the living room where he most certainly _didn't_ know the tissues were. He and his brother went back to their parents' room.

"Here you go, Papa! Daddy, Alfred got you some tissues too." Canada said this with a smile completely different from the scowl on his face that he had had when he had told off his brother. America handed England with the tissues without a word. France reluctantly took his medicine because Canada and England insisted. England blew a whole lot of snot out of his nose. America glared at England, but still, said nothing.

"America, what the hell is wrong with you?" England said between blows, "You're actually being quiet and your glaring at me like I just tore up your favorite toy. What the hell do you want?"

"Nothing." America said, quietly.

"I…I kind of told America off…just a little bit." Canada said sheepishly.

"Eh bien, bien joué vous, Canada! 'Amérique à besoin qu'on lui tire les bretelles de temps en temps." France said.

"Merci, Papa."

"Would you two not speak in bloody French when America and I are around? We can't understand a bloody word you're saying!"

"Sorry, Daddy." Canada said. _Suck up._ America thought angrily.

"So, what else do you guys want?" America said, his normal attitude seemingly coming back. "Or should we go and leave you to yourselves?"

"Despite my intense hate for you when you make comments like that, no. Keep me company, _please_. I don't want to be stuck next to France all day."

"Aw, mon cher, don't you love me?"

"Yes, but you're really bloody annoying sometimes."

"Ew." America said, slowly stepping out the door. Canada, however, grabbed his arm. Canada sat on the foot of the bed and motioned for America to do so as well. America didn't like being bossed around by his _younger_ brother, but he really didn't want to fight with him. America didn't like his brother when he got into moods like he was now. "So…" America said, looking over at his brother. America tapped his fingers lightly on his thigh.

"So, Canada, how's that girlfriend of yours?"

"DUDE, YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?"

"A-America, please." Canada looked awkwardly at the bed, blushing. "S-She's good, Papa." America sighed a sigh of relief, seeing as his little brother had gone back to normal.

"Have you fucked her yet?"

"P-Papa!" Canada's entire face went red and America started laughing. America laughed so hard that he fell off the bed at one point. Even so, America continued to laugh. Canada looked over the bed and said, "America, a-are you okay?" to his older brother. America was laughing to hard to answer.

"I'm glad he thinks I'm so funny." France said with a smile and a chuckle. England just grunted and rolled himself into a position so that his face was buried into his pillow. France just rolled his eyes at him. "Est-ce que Amérique va bien, Canada?" America was still laughing.

"J-Je pense que oui ... c'est juste qu'il rit trop fort." Canada said, trying to pull America off of the floor. "Come on, America. It really wasn't that funny." _I didn't think it was funny at all, but I know how Papa and America are._

"Bro, bro…I can't! I'm…l-laughing to ha-hard!" America said, continuing to laugh. "I-I can't stop!"

"Both of you, get out." England said.

"W-What?" Canada said.

"You're both being incredibly annoying, so get out. I thank you for getting me tissues and the frog cough medicine, now get out. You're giving me a headache." Canada said nothing. He just pulled America to his feet and walked him out. France gave England a death glare.

"Angleterre! How dare you kick our _children_ out?" France crossed his arms.

"They were being annoying."

"So, you think you can just kick them out? That's not the way it works, Angleterre! You know good and well what happens when you neglect your children like that. Does the name 'Revolutionary War' ring a bell?"

"Shut up. I told you that we weren't talking about that anymore. It's over and done with. That's all there is to it."

"…I'm just disappointed is all. I mean, we're sick and miserable, why can't we get America and Canada to help us? I know America is a little rough around the edges, but Canada is nice."

"Hmph. Canada goes along with his brother too easily. Plus, I'm not miserable. It's actually quite nice not having you try to get in my pants every five seconds." England stopped speaking to pull the covers over his head. Most likely to block out some sound. "Now, I'd like to get some sleep. Mind being quiet for me?"

"Only if you're quiet for me. You see, Angleterre, you have two things you can be like when you're sick. You can either be a dominating bastard like you are now, or you can be absolutely sweet and just _sick_. That's when I like you. Actually, I just like knowing that I can take care of you and you aren't better than me in every single aspect. Cependant, with me being sick and you being in one of your dominating bastard sick moods, I'd appreciate it if you would just shut up. Okay?"

England grunted. He absolutely hated being told off by France, because if he said anything it would end up with the two of them fighting and usually France would end up crying. If not, _he_ would end up blinking back tears and going off into another room to sniffle a bit. "Just keep your trap shut." England said. He actually hadn't known that that was the way France thought of him when he was sick. It was slightly depressing.

"Angleterre, I didn't mean-"

"I told you to keep your trap shut, didn't I?"

"Angleterre…" France wrapped an arm around England. England found that he didn't want to push it away. "Je suis désolé. J'imagine que je peux être salaud quand je suis malade, moi aussi." France whispered to England. England would never admit it, but he really loved it when France spoke to him in French. He would also never admit that he could understand it, but that was a different story.

"I…really hate you, you know that?" England said.

"I know, but I love you, Angleterre."

"I know." _And I do too. In my own way._ "And…" England tried to pick out his wording very carefully. "I do love you. In a way." France just smirked to himself. He knew what England _really_ meant.

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><p>Iggybrows and Francy Pants are really sweet when they want to be. 3<p>

I think I enjoy bugging Canada. I'm sorry, Mattie, you're just fun to bug. America's a real ass though.

Thank you to Croc'Sushi for help with fixing the French! :D


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